


Episode Seven: "Of My Existence"

by SilverSnake15



Series: "Hood" (Fictional TV Show) [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: A Death in the Family, Al Ghul, Amnesia, Batman - Freeform, Blood, Corruption, Flashbacks, Frostbite, Gang, Gen, Gotham, Gotham City - Freeform, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jason Already Died, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Police, drug, drug trade, knife, thug, venom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4132651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSnake15/pseuds/SilverSnake15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason and his partner Officer Grayson attempt to take down Bane, who has trade agreements with Black Mask. At the same time, a mysterious figure stalks them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Episode Seven: "Of My Existence"

Personally, the Red Hood preferred to shoot people in the face. Occasionally, he'd whip out his kris to get in close and stab, or use his brute strength to slam opponents against objects. That all made the difference between an execution and a fight, life and death. But tonight, he was fighting hard.

Grayson had gotten a tip about a shipment of Venom (the addictive temporary steroid made popular by Bane) being brought in. The docks, as well as the holding warehouse being used were outside Jason's territory, but they made up at least half of Black Mask's profits through trade and tax. _And as long as that fucker rakes in cash, I've got work to do._

It was common knowledge that all of Bane's men were given Venom. Once injected, the drug increased muscle mass, leading to enhanced strength, durability, and sometimes speed. So Bane had his own miniature army, which was currently kicking ass.  _Their asses, to be exact._

They hadn't expected so many guards to be there at once, and their enemies' increased pain tolerance made the fight especially dangerous. Jason thought that his mind and body had to be working overtime to keep himself alive, and he himself felt pretty damn pessimistic about the current situation. Still, that wasn't to say they weren't making progress. Grayson, who was a couple yards away, definitely held his own. He used his gun, but also dealt out a series of quick punches and jabs that were almost graceful. Jason swore to praise the cop if they got out of this alive. He really would like to live; after all, he'd already died, and that was shit.

Sometime after Grayson realizing he was out of ammo and Jason knocking a guy into a wall, a thick fog started pouring in from the windows. And the Venom-powered people lost it, practically climbing over one another to get to the exits as the low clouds pursued. Whoever was caught in the white vapor started screaming, filling the place with horrific echoes of pain.

"Grayson!" the red-helmeted vigilante yelled. The officer rushed over to his partner, and they dove behind some crates for cover, thinking the fog to be poisonous in some way. But the fog never reached them. It all disappeared in minutes. Officer Grayson peered over the boxes and gasped.

"My god."

"What?" Jason impatiently stood up and immediately regretted doing so. "Holy shit."

It was a massacre. Those near the doors had large, gaping wounds in their chests from where blood and gore poured out, as if someone had impaled them each with a sharp pole. A few were stabbed through the head or neck. But the rest were the worst part. The rest of the corpses had black and blue tinted skin, and were frozen in shock, Venom tanks shattered. _Almost like they had died from a crazy case of—_

"Frostbite. It's back," Grayson said with a grimace.

"Is he some kind of powered-up serial killing freak?"

"I wouldn't say that—"

"Why the hell not?"

"Because they only kill criminals. They're like you," he retorted with a glare, "Only difference is, they appear to be a superhuman. And they showed up in Gotham before you did."

"I didn't hear about 'em when I-uh—"  _Don't say 'came back'_ "—started out."

"You wouldn'tve. Someone wrote a small article about the first bodies a few years ago, but the civilians assumed it was Mr. Freeze and shrugged it off. Then when a few more bodies were found the same way while Freeze was locked up, the GCPD buried the case. They were too scared to go after the killer. A couple weeks later, it stopped. Batman must've done something."

"Yeah, well, whatever he did isn't helping now; the guy's obviously back."

"Are you going after them?"

"Not unless they get in my way. I'm focused on Bane." He chuckled, and pointed out the crates, which had been impaled just as much as the workers, and were leaking Venom onto the floor. "Maybe our little ice guy isn't too bad after all."

* * *

 "What the hell do you MEAN, 'it's delayed'?!" Roman Sionis AKA Black Mask screamed, slamming his fists down on his desk as he glared at the man in front of him. The man in question was a shorter guy in a muscle shirt and cargo pants, who wore one of Bane's signature luchador masks. Without the bulk granted by the (currently nonexistent) Venom tank, the man looked ridiculous. So much so that the furious drug lord snapped and started brutally beating Bane's representative, punctuating the series of hits with words hissed through clenched teeth. "I-DON'T-LIKE-LOSING-MY-GOD-DAMN-MONEY!"

His victim coughed up blood (courtesy of a busted lip) and attempted to even out his breathing. "Y-yes, sir—" he started, which led to Black Mask pulling him up by his collar.

"You better have a DAMN good excuse for where my money has gone!"

"R-Red Hood and some cop—"

"What cop? I OWN the cops in this city!"

"I dunno. But th-they work together..." Lucky for the now-wounded man, Black Mask no longer seemed to be angry. Instead, he let go of the Bane operative and went into a state of silent contemplation, his wood-covered face tilted up toward the ceiling of the office. Then he got an idea, and sat back at his desk.

"Get me that cop before the Red Hood goes after Bane; he and I need to have a talk..." The injured man slowly got to his feet and nodded once to show that he understood his orders. "Well?! Go get it done!"

* * *

Jason dialed Talia's number, and held an ice pack to his scarred, bruised chest as the phone rang. Tonight left him with various patches of purple and deep red, strewn all over his chest. 

_Suddenly he was on the floor, getting kicked over and over in his ribs. Two cracked easily after a while. The crowbar helped with that, and broke the skin multiple times. He swore he tasted blood; his torturer suggested he had a punctured lung. Someone screamed, or maybe he was losing his mind on the way to hell. But the beatings stopped for a little while. Then it started again, more brutal this time. And he started to get more numb._

"Jason?!" Talia's voice brought him back to reality, which for him consisted of lying on his bed in the fetal position. He got up, embarrassed even though she couldn't see him, and sat back on his bed, putting the phone to his ear.

"Yeah."

"...you have sounded like you were in pain for the past few minutes. The visions have not stopped." He pinched the bridge of his nose; he really didn't want to worry her. First off, it wasn't that important, and second, he didn't mean for her to hear whatever she heard. His problems were his and only his to handle. So, he tried sounding upbeat and distracting her.

"I'm getting used to it. How've you been?" Jason could hear her sigh over the line.

"Our warriors are obedient. Father can be irritating, but I am fine. Can I help you in any way?"

"Yeah, I needed to ask you about someone."

"You have found a potential lover. Interesting..."

"No! Dammit, Talia, I just need to know if you sent an assassin into the city."

"I have not." Her tone suddenly went from intrigued to calculating. "Why?"

"When I was in one of Mask's Venom warehouses, fog formed. Once it was gone, everybody was dead. And I'm talking skewered-and-frozen-to-death-dead. My...contact told me that that's Frostbite's M.O. So, is he one of yours?" There was a long pause, so long that Jason wondered if Talia had just hung up the phone or gone to use the ninja-assassin bathroom.

"Our members, even those within my father's circle, are only employed to get rid of a target. Few leave that much destruction behind. This...Frostbite is not one of mine. They are a monster, one that you should keep far away from if you value your life. It kills murderers without a second thought, and you may be next on their list." She took a brief pause, and yelled at someone in Arabic before returning to the phone. "I must go."

"Yeah, th-" Talia hung up before he could thank her, or even say goodbye. _If she was scared, this Frostbite guy must be crazy._ He grabbed his phone, wanting to make a plan with Grayson, just in case the serial killer came after them. His finger hovered over Grayson's contact, then turned his phone off. "I'll handle it in the morning," he grunted before crawling into bed.

* * *

 Officer Grayson chuckled as the person on the other side of the phone call made a joke.

"Nice to see you haven't lost your sense of humor," he told them, getting out of his car, "...yeah, I know..." He closed the car door on the driver's side with a sigh and opened the one on the passenger's, grabbing his thermos before  out and closing the door again. The officer's eyebrows furrowed at something that was said. "No, you can't. None of us can. He doesn't remember me at all, he won't remember y—hey, that's not what I'm—"

As he got into an argument with the caller, he didn't hear a van pull up a few yards away. A few armed men got out, guns concealed, and tried to grab him. Grayson was able to headbutt one guy (giving the man a bloody nose), but got hit hard and was knocked out. His phone and thermos fell out of his hands as he was dragged into the van and driven away. Almost everyone else on the street was inside; those who weren't hardly noticed the kidnapping, because Bludhaven was used to such things.

But the voice calling for Dick Grayson from his cell phone was not.


End file.
